When I was working, I always knew what day it was. I was aware of every upcoming vacation and long weekend because, why not? And because of the 5-day work week, which sometimes stretched into weekends, everything was done on a schedule. Saturday was grocery-day, and most every other errand-day. Which left Sundays for just chillin’. In fact, the first week I stopped working at the end of 2016, I was taking a hike with my wife in the woods on a Saturday and I stopped short and said, “Oh no, I forgot to go grocery shopping.” And she said, “Why not go on Monday?” My shoulders instantly relaxed and I started to enjoy my new reality, which is really nice, except for the lack of steady income part. Now, forget about it, Or as they say in New Yawk, fuhgeddaboudit. I do things like ride a bike on a bike path or play golf or go grocery shopping on a weekday because all those activities are much less crowded. So when John pointed out it was a leap year, we imagined what the guys would do with the extra day. The fact that it came up on a Thursday meant it was gonna be nothing out of the ordinary. I thought maybe read a book, John thought about buying socks, and a comic was born (although I had to point out that the best sock buying is done on the internet — Bombas, in case you had any doubt).

One thing we all do more of on a weeknight basis is go out to dinner. If you notice, every cool restaurant has hard surfaces. No carpeting on the floors, no sound-absorbing tiles on the ceilings, no curtains or drapes on the windows. Nothing. The reason is when you walk in, it sounds like a big party. You’re supposed to think, “Wow everyone is having a great time! What a cool place!” But after a certain age, you think, ”I can’t hear a damned thing!” If I’m being honest, I have to tell you that some places I loved in the past I like a little less now, because it’s so hard to hear and to be heard. We still go to them anyway, because we like the food and the atmosphere, it’s just…

But while we can tolerate the noise (somewhat), sometimes there’s that one table, or that one person at that one table, who crosses the line. Work parties are the worst. You can spot them a mile away. They’re on the 3rd round of drinks and they shout inside info kind of stuff that everyone at the table finds hysterically funny, then they throw their collective heads back and bray like donkeys. Seinfeld-level dialogue it’s not. Stuff like, “Remember when Chris showed up late to that strategy meeting and thought we were talking about finance instead??!!” Or, “Who can forget the time Kevin brought in bagels for a weekend meeting and forgot to bring a gluten-free bagel for Cynthia? I thought she was going to kill him!!!!” Funny stuff indeed. I don’t mind the lame attempts at humor as much as the loud laughter. But the thing that really gets both John and me is when someone at the next table has an incredibly loud, nails-on-the-blackboard laugh. It sneaks up on you. At first you’re thinking, “Geez, it’s loud in here,” and you look around. Then you spot the culprit, “It’s that table to my left.” And then you zero in and see it’s that guy (or in the case of our comic, that lady) at that table who just throws his/her head back and bellows in a completely unnecessarily loud voice. That’s bad enough when you notice it. But what’s worse is when you point it out to your dinner companion (“See that lady over there…?”) Yes, you’ve unburdened yourself, but now you’ve made the meal unbearable for your partner as well. Guilty as charged, by the way. But as Erich Segal said in the film “Love Story,” “Love means never having to say you’re sorry (although I must say, that never works on my wife).

Have a great weekend (see, we just leapt right over Leap Year) and we’ll see you next week with two new ones.

Andy and John